


Psych 102

by RainyForecast



Series: Gen Ed Requirements [2]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Snuggling, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8116852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyForecast/pseuds/RainyForecast
Summary: Psych class continues to make Baz have feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhien/gifts).



> Un beta'd, because rhien IS my beta XD
> 
> Happy birthday, dude. You are the _best. ___
> 
> It's a real article, folks: https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/affectionado/201308/what-lack-affection-can-do-you

 

Baz wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t have taken a gen. ed. psych course, or if he needed to take a dozen more of them.

It was late. Apart from the eternal traffic hum outside, his flat was deathly still, lit only by the sickly blue glow of his laptop screen. He should have finished this assignment hours ago, but he’d been lingering at Simon and Penelope’s. The assignment was easy enough. He had to find and summarize an article discussing current psychological research for a class presentation. Lazy clicking around _Psychology Today_ had yielded “What Lack of Affection Can Do to You,” by a Kory Floyd, Phd.

Baz had an instinctive distrust of people who used “k”s for “c”s, and the label of “Affectionado” underneath the man’s name was so stupid Baz decided to use the article for the assignment, if only to make fun of it.

Or that had been the original idea. Instead he was sitting here, blinking at the definition of something called “skin hunger,” and feeling the vacuum of his empty apartment pull at his insides.

And suddenly he _wanted_ ; he wanted Simon so badly that he ached with it. He wanted to be in bed with the warm weight of Simon’s body pressed against him. He wanted the silk of Simon’s hair brushing his cheek; he wanted to listen to the slow, measured cadence of Simon’s breathing as he slept.

Baz drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees, as though curling up into himself would make things better. It did not. It just made him imagine Simon settling down behind him, arms about his waist and chin hooked over Baz’s shoulder. Baz loved it when Simon casually touched him, _surrounded_ him like that, but Baz didn’t always know how to ask for what he needed.

His eyes strayed towards his phone, lying half buried under class handouts. It was past two o’clock in the morning. He was being ridiculous. Simon was asleep, and even if he wasn’t, the idea of going all the way back to his apartment and--

Simon.

The warm scent of his skin, the way he clutched at Baz in sleep like a baby koala. The way he murmured and twitched when he dreamed. The way he looked in the morning, all absurdly tousled hair and gentle, sleepy eyes. The slow, wondering way he’d smile at Baz. Like he was still surprised to find him there. Like he hadn’t expected anyone to _stay_.  

Baz had bolted upright and swiped his keys up from the counter before he was quite aware of what he was doing.

***

He let himself into Simon and Penelope’s flat as silently as possible. Getting caught would be more than mortifying. He was in steadfast denial about the fact that if he stayed he would be facing Penelope’s raised eyebrows and knowing smirk anyway, come morning.

Simon was fast asleep, of course, when Baz carefully opened the door to his bedroom. Baz pulled off his outer clothing and shoes and tried to slide under the covers without waking him, but as he settled against Simon’s back Simon’s breathing hitched.

“Baz? What’re y’ doin’?” he slurred, turning to face Baz.  
“Shhhh,” Baz whispered. “Go back to sleep.” He could feel his face burning with embarrassment.  He did not want a discussion of why he was sneaking into his boyfriend’s bed at whatever-the-fuck-o'clock in the morning.

“Why’re you here?” Simon, apparently, was not going to leave the matter alone. Baz sighed and gritted his teeth.

“Go to sleep Simon.”

“Baz? Is something wrong?” Simon sounded completely awake now, and had half sat up. Baz felt a stab of guilt.

“I just...I missed you, _alright_? Now go the hell back to sleep.” At that, Simon went silent for a moment, but Baz could tell he was still raised up on one elbow, staring at Baz in the dark.

“You did?” Simon said. His voice gone soft, a rough break in the words betraying him as deeply moved. Baz squirmed uncomfortably. This had been a stupid idea. Simon fumbled for him then, jabbing Baz in the eye before laying his hand along the side of Baz’s face. He pressed a sleepy kiss to Baz’s forehead. “I love you too, Baz. Now turn over.” Baz muttered in protest but Simon shushed him and manhandled him onto his side, looping  an arm around Baz’s waist and hitching a leg over Baz’s thighs. Baz couldn’t help the shuddering sigh he made when Simon nuzzled into his neck. He felt Simon smile before pressing his lips to Baz’s skin.

“There now,” Simon murmured, and Baz felt the tension drain from his body as though Simon’s words themselves had banished it. He brought his hand to where Simon’s curled around his abdomen and threaded his fingers through Simon’s. Simon hummed into the curve of Baz’s neck in response.

Slowly, Simon’s breathing lengthened back into the rhythm of sleep, and Baz matched it, letting his body sink into the bed, into Simon’s.

Outside, the London night continued to meander its way toward dawn.


End file.
